


We Traced the Constellations

by Bastetmoon



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Basically PWP, Blow Jobs, Cousin Incest, M/M, Russingon, finwein family politics are complicated, with added angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4294248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bastetmoon/pseuds/Bastetmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things change over time, others don’t. Maedhros and Fingon find beauty written on each others’ skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Traced the Constellations

The crack of a pebble dashing against the window sent Findekano tumbling roughly from his dreams. His hands scrabbled against the silk of the sheets for a moment as he searched for the candle. With a hiss a flame burst into existence, illuminating the white walls and blue coverlet with dancing light of orange and red.

Crack! The second impact rattled the window’s frame. Slipping from bed, the tiled floor was cold against his bare feet as Findekano cast open the heavy curtains. A few fat flakes of snow drifted past the panes of glass, the rays of Telperion turning them to pure silver wherever they fell in luminous pools. Far below was a glint of copper, like a flame amid the world of frost.

Findekano’s heart quickened leaping to his throat. _Eru help me! At this hour?_

Beneath the window Maitimo hefted another pebble. Quickly Findekano fumbled with the latch, casting the window outward before his cousin could sent his projectile arching upward.

“Nelyo? It’s past midnight!”

“Yes.” Came the reply, his cousin’s voice tinged with irritation, “I couldn’t sneak away until just now. I swear Curvo is onto me.” Findekano could imagine that. All the Feanorians had eyes of course but none sharper than Atarinke’s. _Only a matter of time. Makalaure has known for years._ Maitimo’s face was pale and despite that the snow was but a dusting across the grass—for true winter came rarely to Tirion—he shook with the cold. “May I enter Finno? It’s freezing out here.”

They spoke only so loudly as they dared. Irisse’s room was not four windows down and Findekano did not much desire to explain why Maitimo had been calling outside his window in the wee hours of the morning.

“Yes…but—“

His question was cut short as Nelyo launched himself upwards, hands catching on the masonry that ran all round the window. With a strain he hefted himself up and through the window. Findekano caught his arm, pulling in forward so that they both tumbled backwards, spilling onto the rug beneath the window. The candle rolled away, extinguishing it’s fire against the tiled floor.

They lay still for a moment, until finally Findekano’s breath came out in a fit of giggles.

Maitimo’s eyes blazed, soft grey yet as if they contained some sort of secret flame. “What are you laughing about?” His mouth twitched, as it always did when he was trying to conceal a smile.

“You. You’re completely ridiculous.” He grinned, “Waiting under my window? Climbing up here in the middle of the night? What would people say?"

“People who?” A smile quirked at the corners of Maitimo’s lips.

Findekano frowned, mustering up the most aggrieve expression he could. “Well my family for one. I hardly want one of my siblings coming it, finding us like this.”

“Hmm.” Maitimo let out his breath as a little huff, disentangling himself so that he straddled Findekanno’s legs, looming over him. “I think there are some things your family shouldn’t know about.” He leaned forward catching his cousin’s mouth in his as easily as fish is caught in the net. Maitimo’s finger’s drifted between his cousins leg drawing a sharp intake of breath.

 With one hand Findekano found himself braced against the tiles, the other quickly tangling in Maitimo’s mane of chestnut curls. _Russandol you will be the death of me._ As he was pressed further against the floor Findekano’s hand began to work Nelyo’s shirt upward, casting it away from the both of them.

Breathlessly they broke apart. “I think we should spare dear Irissë the horrible truth don’t you?” Maitimo’s eyes shone with laughter even as his pupils dilated.

Findekano groaned, longing to feel Nelyo’s lips on his skin once more. “Manwe’s balls Nelyo, if you come here to fuck me in the middle of the night at least leave my sister out of it.”

“You brought it up, I merely pointed out that she would certainly be displeased to find her elder brother gasping for breath on the floor of his chamber.” He bent forward smattering light kisses down Findekano’s neck. “Not that I mind the view.”

“You are impertinent Nelyo.”

“Ai and you are insatiable.” Gracefully Maitimo released him, springing backwards to rest on the messy bed. His skin washed pale by Telperion so that he looked like marble against the midnight coverlet. He reclined there, watching as Findekano divested himself of his sleeping tunic. The cool breeze tickled Findekano’s exposed skin and goosebumps rose where it touched.

“By Eru Finno, you’re beautiful.”

“You think your flattery works on me?” Falling down between his cousins legs Findekano carefully undid the lacing of his breeches, pulling them down over the ivory of his thighs.

“It has so far hasn’t it? Diplomacy is my—“ Whatever diplomacy was to him was cut off as Findekano took Maitimo in his mouth and his head was tossed back in a spray of copper. He gasped, own hands knotting in Findekano’s nest of messy curls.  Even listening to the low moans his tongue tore from Maitimo’s throat made Finno ache, his own need coupled with that of his cousin.

“Wait.” Maitimo’s voice was hoarse. “Wait Finno.” Gently a hand pulled him away and Maitimo leaned down so that his lips were level with Findekano’s ear. “I want you to fuck me.”

Maitimo reclined, watching with feral eyes as Fingon pulled a small clay jar from the table at his bedside, spreading the oil down his length.

Findekano lowered himself onto the bed, just above Maitimo admiring the spray of freckles that played across his skin. Like galaxies he wanted to taste them all. Carefully he traced a line with his mouth from his throat all the way down, even as Nelyo arched and moaned in his arms. To see proud Nelyafinwe Maitimo so completely feral was all the incentive he need. With gentle fingers he spread his cousin’s thighs.

His cousin let out a wild moan, torn from his throat with urgent haste, as Findekano slowly pushed into him.

“Ai Finno!” He groaned, as Findekano set his pace, rocking him against the bed slow at first and then faster. “Please.” Maitimo’s legs wrapped about his waist, his back arched against the soft mattress. One hand clenched in the silken folds of the sheets.

They were—both of them—completely undone, and for once neither of them minded the cold.

 

* * *

 

Idly the tip of Fingon’s index finger brushed a line of freckles were they lay like flecks of gold upon Maedhros’ back. In the light of the moon they shone like little beacons against his skin.

Resting his head against Maedhros’ shoulders he wrapped one arm around him, pressing up against the warmth of his cousin’s body.

It was bitterly cold—so much that it made the light dustings of Tirion look like nothing more a powder upon the ground. Sometimes when the wind howled Fingon swore he could still hear the wails of those lost to the darkness as they had crossed the grinding ice. Though in truth no storm of Beleriand could match the freezing gusts that tore across the ice.

Against him Maedhros shivered, even as he had shivered beneath Fingon’s window all those long years ago.

“I beg you, close the window.” Voice delirious still choked with sleep, Maedhros did not open his eyes, just lay there curled tight in a ball. The scars on his back stood out white and ridged, traversing his back in a hundred glimmering tracks.

Fingon laid a kiss upon each of his cousin’s shoulders. Softly he slipped from the down mattress, bare feet slapping against the rough wooden grains of the floor. In the far corner of the room the last embers—glowing in their stone hearth—sputtered to cold and quiet deaths. Seizing hold of the window latch Fingon drew it tight, cutting off the howling of the wind.

Slipping back between the silken covers Fingon allowed one hand to whisper down Maedhros’ spine, tracing the gentle curve.

“What are you doing Finno?”

His hand paused by a particularly dense cluster of freckles. Galaxies, he once thought them.

“You are so beautiful Maitimo, so beautiful.”

With a rustle of sheets, Fingon found himself pierced by a set of hard grey eyes. There was a scar above one of them, a white line that had not been there so many years ago. Maedhros’ curls fell about his shoulder, glowing like the coming of dawn.

“Even now?” Maedhros’ voice was soft, like that of child. He held out his hands to his cousin—or what was left of them. The stump of his arm gleamed in the moonlight. His skin had tanned in the harsh summers of Belieriand. No longer was he a creature of marble and bronze, no longer was he completely whole.

_And neither am I._ Fingon thought. _We are so ruined, you and I._

But there was a beauty to the utter destruction of what they were, what they had once been. Leaning forward he moved a loose curl that had fallen down between Maedhros’ eyes. Gently as he could he kissed his cousin. His hands ran through his hair, even as Maedhros clung to him with his one good hand.

When they broke apart Fingon saw tears had gathered in Maedhros eyes, his once proud face marred by warfare and sorrow.

Softly, with the pad of his thumb he brushed them away.

“Yes, even now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes here is my contribution to the world of Russingon smut. I don't write explicit content very often but I just couldn't let this idea go. So I hope you enjoyed it.  
> This one-shot occurs somewhere within the verse of my other story The Pieces, They Fall.  
> Also I recognize that it probably doesn't snow at all in Valinor but for the sake of the fanfic I'm going to disregard that and pretend that Tirion occasionally does get very mild snows.


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